


Worth It

by NotSaved



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7988719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSaved/pseuds/NotSaved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ever since I saw The Breakfast Club, I've had this story rattling around in my head.  It's taken me a while to write it down, it's the first thing I've ever written (since school - and that was a long time ago!) but it wouldn't go away so I have finally made myself put it onto paper.  I'm a bit unsure about sharing it but I found this site and thought I'd give it a try.  </p>
<p>I'm based in the UK and obviously the story is not so if I've used any UK terminology that makes no sense to non-UK based people, or made any mistakes, I'm sorry!  I have also used UK spellings.</p>
<p>I have most of the story completed now but I'll post each chapter as I finish checking them over.  If you do read my story then thank you, I hope you like it!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I saw The Breakfast Club, I've had this story rattling around in my head. It's taken me a while to write it down, it's the first thing I've ever written (since school - and that was a long time ago!) but it wouldn't go away so I have finally made myself put it onto paper. I'm a bit unsure about sharing it but I found this site and thought I'd give it a try. 
> 
> I'm based in the UK and obviously the story is not so if I've used any UK terminology that makes no sense to non-UK based people, or made any mistakes, I'm sorry! I have also used UK spellings.
> 
> I have most of the story completed now but I'll post each chapter as I finish checking them over. If you do read my story then thank you, I hope you like it!

John

Sunday, March 25, 1984 

John woke early, as usual. As much as he'd love to sleep for longer most days, the urge to escape the house before his dad woke was just too strong. This morning, though, there was no chance of sleeping in. Sleep hadn't come at all until the early hours, and when it did come, it had been disturbed by surreal dreams that he couldn't quite remember now. He washed and dressed as quickly and quietly as he could, and was ready to head for the door when he glanced into his mirror and stopped in his tracks. The sight of the diamond glinting in his earlobe reminded him that yesterday hadn't just been one of his half remembered dreams. Yesterday, the most popular, most beautiful girl in the whole school had kissed him. Him! He had no idea how long he stood there, just staring into the mirror, but after a while he realised he was holding his breath, and let it out in a rush. A wave of some unrecognisable emotion washed over him and he dropped back down to sit on his bed. What the fuck was yesterday? Had she meant it when she kissed him? He knew he'd behaved like an asshole for most of the day, especially to her – but had she seen through it? Had she really seen something in him that was somehow worthy of her attention – and maybe even something more? The thought of it made his heart beat faster and all of a sudden he had a desperate need to get out of his room, out of his house, into the open. 

He went for his bedroom door but as he reached for the handle, he heard a door slam open down the hallway and froze.  
“You here, you fuckin shit?" It was his Dad, awake earlier than John would have expected, and obviously not in a great mood. John searched his memory for anything he might have done in the last 24 hours to piss off his Dad more than normal, but came up empty. He stood as still and as quiet as he could, in the hope the old man would assume he wasn't here, give up and go back to bed, but his luck was out. John could hear slow, unsteady footsteps in the hall. “Hey boy, I'm talking to you. Where the fuck were you yesterday, hey? There was shit to be done here boy. You have somewhere more important to be, hey? You hear me?” The footsteps stopped and John heard what sounded like his Dad bumping into something; he was probably still drunk from last night and had obviously forgotten John had been in detention the day before. “Out with your deadbeat 'friends' were you? I got news for you boy, they ain't your friends, they know what you are, just like everybody does, you're a nothing, worthless, piece of shit, no good...” his Dad's voice died away for a second and then the footsteps started again; they were almost at his door now. “You hear me boy? You better have a fucking good excuse for yesterday or so help me...”. John didn't need to hear any more. He was out of his window and across the yard before his Dad reached for the door handle. Hopefully, by the time he got home, his Dad would have slept off the drink and forgotten his anger. 

It was just starting to get light, and the streets were quiet and empty. John kept running until he'd crossed the street, ducked down an alley and reached the edge of the school grounds. He finally let himself stop, and dropped down to sit with his back against the wall of the sports hall. He was breathing hard from running, but he hardly noticed. He was scared. He might talk tough, he might hide 'John' behind 'Bender' in public so people wouldn't see that they could hurt him, he might hide it well, but he did get scared and he did get hurt. He lived most of his life in fear of his Dad, not that he'd let the old man see it. But today's fear was different. Today, he wasn't scared of what his Dad might do when he saw him later. He was scared that what his Dad had said was true, that he WAS just a worthless joke. And Claire... well, she was just about the most important person in the school. He was her total opposite, and for the first time ever, he had a real reason to wish he wasn't. His Dad was right, Vernon was right. There was no way. The idea that she, of all people, could have seen something good in a worthless piece of crap like John Bender was just pure fantasy, and he might as well forget it right now before he risked really getting hurt. The physical pain his Dad inflicted, he could cope with that, and he was used to his parents treating him like shit, but he had the very real feeling that Claire Standish might be the one person who had the power to really, truly hurt him, in a way that couldn't be easily fixed with pills and bandages, and so yeah, he was scared. 

He took out the diamond earring she had given him and held it in the palm of his hand, looking at it for the longest time. She had kissed him, and he had the sense she didn't kiss people often; she must have thought he was somehow 'better' than he actually was. And suddenly he realised that it wasn't just himself that was at risk of getting hurt now. Claire was way too good for him, and she had good things coming to her in life. She'd kissed him, and made him feel good about himself for a while, and in return he had to make sure that she didn't end up wrecking her school reputation over him. She might have thought that he was worth her time and attention but she was wrong, and if she hadn't already come to realise it herself then John knew it was up to him to make her understand. He sat for another couple of minutes, hating himself, and hating his Dad even more, and then he stood up, let the earring drop into his pocket, and walked away into the chill of the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Claire

Monday, March 26, 1984

Claire couldn't remember ever feeling so restless. She felt like she'd been ready for school for hours, but couldn't relax – part of her couldn't wait to get there, and part of her was absolutely terrified, and she wasn't sure which feeling was strongest. Sunday had seemed to pass so slowly, and she'd been counting down the hours to school, but now that Monday was here, she felt like it had sped past in a blur and she needed more time to prepare. She just had no idea how she was supposed to act today - when she saw John. Boys at school treated her one of two ways: either they were totally intimidated by her, and wouldn't even look her in the eye, or they wanted to get with her and were really, really nice to her. Either way, she was in control. But this? This was different. She was so far out of her comfort zone with THIS boy, she felt like she was standing on the edge of something, and both wanting to fall off and back away to safety at the same time.

He'd been so intimidating at the start of detention. She'd wanted to ignore him, but there was something about his eyes; so dark, and deep, they drew her in and wouldn't let her go. He'd been under her skin almost from the very start, but she'd played the day over and over again in her mind and she could pinpoint the exact moment that she'd realised she was in real trouble. They were trying to get back to the library and Andrew led them straight to locked gates; they knew right then they were screwed, Vernon was bound to catch them. But John... she'd looked up at him, and he was staring straight back at her, with this look on his face - this intensity, this concern - that she'd never seen before. It was only for a second, and then he was gone, running and singing, distracting Vernon and taking the blame for them. From that moment, something changed, and it had seemed only right she should help cover for him in return after he found his way back to the library, when he ducked under the desk... her skin burned at the memory of it and she buried her face in her pillow. She knew he had to be way more experienced than she was; she hadn't even kissed that many boys let alone anything else, John had been right about that. But when she'd felt him there... she'd felt panic sure, but something else too, something new. She'd tried to hide it, telling him off when he emerged from under the desk, but she had the feeling she hadn't fooled him at all. And then later, when she'd shown everyone the trick with her lipstick, she was shocked by how much his reaction had affected her. She had never really given much thought to what people thought of her – because she knew they all loved her, and admired he. She was the most popular girl in the school, wasn't she? But right now, there was only one person whose opinion really mattered to her, and it unnerved her that she truly didn't know what he thought of her - and wasn't sure how to find out. She checked her watch. She still had no idea what she'd do, or say, when she saw him but it was time to head to school.

Claire spent the day looking for him everywhere, while desperately trying to look like she wasn't. Her friends – her 'before detention' friends – had no idea what had happened, and she had no idea how to even begin to tell them. How could she tell them what had happened, when she wasn't exactly sure what it meant herself? She couldn't concentrate in class, and she couldn't find it in herself to really care about the conversations her friends had in between classes either. Shannon's despair over a pair of boots that were out of stock in her size, Carrie's outrage that the boy she went out with last week hadn't called her since, even though she didn't really like him and only went out with him because she hadn't had a better offer that night... it all just seemed so insignificant when she thought about the scar on John's arm, the way he'd yelled at her, the look on his face when she kissed him in the closet, and the way she'd felt when he'd kissed her back... By the end of the day Claire thought she was losing her mind. She'd had no idea how she'd respond when she finally saw him, but at no time since Saturday had she considered that she simply wouldn't see him at all today. She didn't know how long she could feel like this; she hoped to God she'd see him soon and somehow, somehow everything would make sense again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Claire

Thursday, March 29, 1984

No week had ever dragged for Claire like this one. Almost halfway through Thursday, she still hadn't seen, or heard from, John. Something had to give; she had to talk to someone and so when lunchtime rolled around she made a decision. When she reached the canteen, she picked up her lunch tray, but instead of heading to her usual table, she scanned the hall until she spotted Brian, sitting with a group of serious looking kids in the corner. Taking a deep breath, and trying to ignore the feeling of curious eyes following her, she walked over to his table. And then just stood there, with no idea what to say to him.

“Hey, Claire” said Brian, after a surprised pause.

“Brian. Hi. I wondered if, maybe, we could speak for a moment?”

“Er – yes – yes, sure, ok.” There was another awkward silence.

“In private?” she added when she realised no one else at the table was talking, all eyes fixed on her face. Brian shrugged a confused goodbye to his friends, picked up his tray and followed Claire to an empty table at the back of the hall. They sat; Brian looked at Claire, who looked at her hands which were busily twisting and untwisting her napkin back and forth.

“Erm... are you ok, Claire? What's up?” Brian asked finally. She was silent for another moment and then took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

“Have you seen him, Brian? John, I mean. Have you seen John?”

“John Bender? N-no, I haven't. Sorry,” he added, looking worried that he'd given Claire the wrong answer. She sighed, and looked back down at the table. Her next words came out in a rush.

“The thing is,” she said, still not meeting his eye, “that we, well, kissed. On Saturday. After everyone else had left. And I gave him one of my earrings, the diamonds, you know? That he... talked about? Then I left, and he left, and I haven't seen him or heard from him since, and I have no idea now if he likes me, or hates me, and usually I don't think I'd care, I'd just move onto someone else but this time, somehow...” she trailed off, and finally met Brian's eyes, and he saw tears in hers. “I don't know what to do. What if... he's not ok? His Dad, you know? I saw him put my earring in, as we drove away, what if his Dad saw it, and...” she broke off suddenly as Shannon and Carrie appeared at the table.

“Er, Claire? Is everything ok?” asked Shannon, looking at Brian with undisguised disdain in her eyes.

“Hi Shannon, hi Carrie, yes – everything's fine” replied Claire, blinking away the tears quickly before her friends' eyes finally moved away from Brian and settled on her. “Brian was in detention with me on Saturday and... we had fun, so...” she trailed off again, unsure how to explain her new friendship, but determined not to let Brian down. Not after the conversation they'd had on Saturday about staying friends, when she'd seen how much it meant to him. She'd told him then that the chances were they wouldn't still be friends come Monday, but since then, so many things felt different. People would expect her to be a bitch to Brian. Maybe that was the exact reason she suddenly wanted to do the exact opposite.

“O-kaaay,” said Shannon, obviously confused “so, will we see you later? We're still heading to the mall aren't we?”

“Erm... yes, sure, why not” said Claire, doing her best to smile, “I'll meet you out front after class”. Shannon and Carrie exchanged glances and shrugs and finally looked away. Claire looked back at Brian, ready to pick up their conversation, but his gaze was fixed on something to her left, beyond the table next to them.

“Er, Claire?” he started, and she followed his eyeline, freezing in shock as she realised what he was looking at. John Bender was walking past the cafeteria window. Without being aware of what she was doing, she stood up, eyes still fixed on him. But then he flipped his hair out his eyes, and she felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.

Her earring was gone.

 


	4. Chapter 4

John

Thursday, March 29, 1984

John heard her calling after him as he walked away from the cafeteria, heading for the football field and then the alley that would lead him home. He only heard her call out once, though, and then he picked up the pace and didn't hear her again. He knew she'd never be able to keep up with him, not in the stupid fucking shoes she always wore. He wasn't sure why he'd bothered to turn up to school today. Andrew was right, it didn't seem like anyone had even noticed he was missing, but he figured he'd have to show his face again sometime. He'd gone to his first couple of classes, pissed off a couple of teachers, and then decided at lunch time there was no point in sticking around. He had no cash on him for lunch anyway. He figured his Dad might be in the pub by now, so it might be safe to go home, get something to eat, and pick up another change of clothes or two. He hadn't been home since late on Sunday. He had hoped his Dad would have calmed down by the time he got there, but he was out of luck. Instead, he'd just sobered up so his reflexes were sharper, and his aim was better than it probably would have been that morning. John's eyes hadn't even had time to adjust to the light when he'd stepped through the door before his Dad was on him. He was probably stronger than his Dad these days, but the attack had taken him by surprise, and John had ended up with a black eye that he was hiding behind dark glasses. He fought back and soon managed to escape to his room, where he'd grabbed some of his stuff before taking off to stay with a guy he got high with sometimes. A few nights on a sofa had seemed a better option than going home to shoot the shit with Daddy, and he felt like he might go crazy if he was left alone with his thoughts.

Today, there was no sign of any movement at his house. He circled around to the back of the house, to his bedroom window which he hadn't locked, and climbed through quietly. He stood for a minute or two, listening out for the TV, or raised voices, but heard nothing. He figured he'd been right, his Dad was no doubt in the pub. He had no idea about his mother, she could be in the pub too, or just passed out somewhere. He didn't care either way, he wasn't planning to be here long. He headed for the bathroom, and showered quickly. Afterwards he went back to his room and sat down on his bed. A few months and he'd be old enough to leave this dump. He couldn't wait, despite the fact that he hadn't a clue where he'd go or what he'd do. There were people he could stay with for a bit, he'd find work somehow, he didn't care what it was, so long as it got him away from this place. He looked around the room; he had few possessions, anything he brought home got trashed by his Dad. He imagined what Claire's room would be like; huge, filled with clothes, shoes, make up... maybe photos of her friends on the wall, proof that people gave a shit. He wondered what the hell that might feel like – and then he dropped his head, and shook it hard, trying to erase the images, forget it all. Worthless, he was worthless and going nowhere. He couldn't let himself forget it; it could cause too much trouble if he did, and not just for him.

John headed down the hall to the kitchen – if you could call it that. The cupboards and fridge were mostly empty but he did find some bread and a hunk of cheese that was going green around the edges. He cut off the mould and threw together some sandwiches, wrapping them in a paper bag to take with him; he didn't want to eat here. He was about to leave when he heard a knock on the front door. He froze; he almost stopped breathing. No one ever knocked on the door here, except occasionally the cops. Everyone knew how violent his Dad was, and they stayed well away. Moving as quietly as he could, he grabbed his sandwiches and headed for his room where he stuffed them into the top of the bag he'd packed clean clothes into. Whoever was at the door, he didn't want them to know he was here.

He was out of the window and almost across the back yard before curiosity got the better of him. He moved quickly to the side of the house and crept down the path, staying close to the wall. Then, slowly he peered around the corner – and his breath stopped in his lungs. It was Claire. Claire Standish was standing outside his front door. He had no idea how she'd found out where he lived, but somehow she was here. His first instinct was to run; let her think she'd got the wrong house, he didn't want her to know he lived in this shithole. But then – what if his Dad got home, and she was still here? Daddy had no qualms about hitting women. Even if his Dad didn't hurt Claire, John would rather admit to this being his house, than admit to that bastard being his father. The decision didn't take long to make. He needed to get her away from here, make sure she understood this place was not safe, make sure she knew she had to steer clear of him; he wasn't worth the risk she was taking. He stepped out from the shadows at the side of the house. She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, and it made her jump – and then she was just staring at him, and he was just staring at her, and he had to remind himself to breathe. Finally he dropped his eyes from hers. He was scared he might lose himself, and his resolve, if he didn't.

“John” she said, starting towards him.

“Why are you here? How are you here?” he asked, dropping his bag and crossing his arms across his chest as if somehow he could protect himself that way, still not meeting her eye and realising suddenly that he'd forgotten to cover his fading bruise up with glasses again after his shower.

“I saw you at school, I chased you – didn't you hear me call you?” She stopped moving towards him, uncertain now.

“I heard you. But you can't be here. I don't want you here, you hear me? You need to stay away from this fucking place. You need to stay away from me”. She came towards him again then, stopping when she was almost close enough to touch. She put her hand up to his face, to the bruise his Dad's punch had left him with. There was concern in her eyes, and something else too. John thought it was probably pity and he hated that.

“I saw you put my earring in on Saturday. But you don't have it in now?”

“Didn't you hear me sweets? You can't be here”. Claire didn't say anything, she just kept looking at him, until he couldn't take it any longer and had to look away. “If my Dad comes back and finds you here...that wouldn't end well. For any of us”. She nodded then, and looked behind her nervously, as if expecting to see his Dad standing there. John looked at her again, then picked up his bag and turned away from her, heading for the alley.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“If I'm honest, I have no idea. Anyway, shouldn't you be in school?” He turned to look at her.

“Shouldn't you?!” she replied.

“They won't even notice I'm gone. They're right, Andrew, my Dad, Vernon, all of them... I might as well not be there. No one will notice.” He sighed. “See you around sweets”. He turned away again then, and started walking, so he almost didn't hear her when she spoke again.

“John. I'll notice”.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Claire

Thursday, March 29, 1984

He stopped walking when she said that. Claire's heart was banging in her chest; so loud, she felt sure he would hear it, but he'd stopped, and she felt so much relief. She had thought for a second that he was walking away from her for good.

“Do you really not know where you're going?” He kept his back to her. She wished he'd turn around.

“Just away from here. My old man wasn't in the best of moods on Sunday as I'm sure you noticed, I'm in no rush to do any father-son bonding anytime soon.”

“Is that why you haven't been at school? Have... have you not been home in all that time? Where have you been?” She was scared to ask, scared of the answer... had he been with one of the girls from the photos he carried? Is that why he wouldn't look at her now? She could hardly breathe while she waited for the answer.

“A friend has a sofa, he put me up for a couple of days.” He. His friend was a he. Claire allowed herself to breathe again. John started to walk away again but glanced back at her, gesturing for her to follow. He was heading for an alleyway.

“Can you go back there?” He shrugged, still not looking at her. They'd reached the alley entrance and he slowed his pace slightly; they were out of view of his house now.

“I think I've been there long enough sweets. Anyway, his girlfriend is coming home from a trip tonight, I doubt she'll want to come back and find a house guest. I'll figure something out, don't worry about it.” He turned then, and finally met her eyes, and she felt a jolt of shock. All the confidence she'd seen on Saturday, all the life – was gone. He looked broken.

“Can I... what can I do?” He looked away, and shook his head.

“How DID you find my house, anyway?”

“Oh, you know. I... when you took off earlier, and I couldn't catch you, I asked around.” That took him by surprise and he looked back at her, confusion written all over him.

“Asked around? Asked around who?”

“Brian at first. Then Andy and Allison. None of them knew, but they helped me hunt down someone who did. I was looking for your... friends... but I wasn't sure where to find them over lunch. But then when I asked Shannon and Carrie, it turned out Carrie thought her older brother might know so she called him and...”

“You told Shannon and Carrie you were looking for ME? Didn't they want to know why?”

“Well... yes. They did. They were... surprised I was asking.” That was an understatement, but Claire didn't want to even think about how her so-called friends had reacted, let alone tell John.

“And?”

“And... what?”

“What'd you tell them?” Claire felt suddenly nervous again, remembering how strongly he had insisted that he would never be seen walking down the hall with her at school. What if he hated what she'd done?

“I told them...” she paused, took a deep breath, dropped her eyes to the ground. “I told them the truth”. He was silent for a moment and her fear intensified. She'd done the wrong thing, he had made his feelings quite clear on Saturday... why hadn't she respected that? She felt the start of tears prickling behind her eyes, and she looked back up at him, ready to apologise – but he was smiling down at her, and the darkness she'd noticed in his eyes earlier had lifted slightly. He stopped walking.

“You told them – the truth?” Claire nodded. “Tell me what you told them. Exactly what you told them”.

“I told them...” She took a deep breath. “I told them that I'd met you in detention. That you were an asshole”. He laughed out loud at that. “But then I told them that you... that you saved us from more trouble when we got stuck trying to get back to the library. I didn't tell them what you told us about your Dad, or anything, but I told them that I'd started to understand you better, and...that...I liked you. That I really liked you.” She was blushing now. “That I...that we...had kissed. And that I hadn't seen you or heard from you since Saturday, until today, and that it was driving me crazy because you didn't have my earring in when I saw you and... I have no idea what that means.” He wasn't laughing any more.

“What about your 'reputation', Ms. Prom Queen? Aren't you worried what they'll all be saying about you now?”

“I thought I'd care. But I don't. I don't care who knows, or what they think of me.” John reached for her then, pushing her hair back from her face, laying his palm against her cheek. She thought he would kiss her, she hoped he would, but after a couple of seconds he pulled away and started walking again. They'd reached the end of the alley and suddenly she realised where they were; the alley had been a shortcut through to the edge of the school grounds. She'd walked the long way around to find his place.

“I should be going.”

“But where will you... oh!” An idea flashed into Claire's mind. “Come on. Come with me”.

“Where are we...” but she was walking away, and this time it was her gesturing him to follow.

 


	6. Chapter 6

John

Thursday, March 29, 1984

John paused for a second as she walked away, not sure whether to follow or not. His first instinct was to head in the other direction and, if she hadn't just told him what she had, he probably would have done. But – she'd asked around school after him. She'd told her friends what had happened between them. She'd risked her school reputation just to find out where he lived, and then she'd come out here to the ass-end of nowhere to track him down. John hauled his bag onto his shoulder and followed Claire. They were both silent for a few minutes, and then he finally asked where they were headed.

“I have a cousin, he's older than me, he lives about a mile from school. He's away with work for a couple of weeks and he asked me to keep an eye on his place. I have a key. You can stay there for a bit if you can't go home.”

“I can't just squat in someone's place without asking him, sweets.”

“You'll be doing me a favour.”

“How's that exactly?”

“Well if I know there's someone living there, I won't need to check up on the place so often. More time to spend in the mall with my friends.” Her voice was light, but he sensed the tension behind her words – would she have any friends left to go to the mall with, now they knew she had an interest in him? He wrestled with his thoughts for the rest of the journey, walking in silence. He hated to take her charity, but he had to admit that the idea of escaping his Dad for a while was tempting. And there's no way anyone would be able to track him down; no one would know where he was.

It didn't take them too long to get there. He noticed that Claire had gym shoes on, instead of heels; he wondered if she'd changed them especially, to save her feet hurting when she set off to find his house. The neighbourhood looked nice, way nicer than he was used to, and when Claire let them into the house he could hardly believe how clean everything was.

“Wow.”

“Is it ok?” She looked nervous now, worried about his reaction.

“It's better than ok”.

“There's plenty of stuff in the cupboards, eat what you like”. She showed him around, going into all the rooms... except one. She left the last door closed.

“The bedroom is in there.” He nodded, looked at her – she was looking at her feet. She was blushing from the roots of her hair, right to the neckline of her blouse. John clenched his jaw, determined not to give in to the way he was feeling; he'd have done pretty much anything to kiss her right then. She turned away.

“I have to go. I'm... I think I'm supposed to meet some friends.” He understood that her uncertainty was because of him; in one afternoon her whole school life might have changed completely, and she didn't yet know the extent of that. “Will – will I see you at school tomorrow?”

He sighed.

“I might be there. But sweets? I meant what I said at my place. You need to stay away from me. We can't... I can't...this just can't be.” He saw tears cloud her eyes again, and he hated that he'd caused that, but he had to make her understand she was worth so much more than John Bender.

“Shouldn't I get a say in that?” He could tell she was trying not to cry. He hated this. He had no idea why, but he felt more for the girl standing in front of him than he had ever even imagined it was possible to feel. He had to end this, and end it fast. Better to rip the plaster off quickly and grit his teeth against the hurt, than let things drag on and get complicated.

“Not this time princess. I know everyone usually bows down and gives in to your every demand, but this is one decision you don't get to make. It's not what I want, ok?” Her face crumpled and he saw her pain and confusion. “I'll go if you want me to go, I'll find some place else to stay”. Her tears came now and she made no attempt to hide them. She turned her back on him, and ran down the stairs.

“Stay. Stay as long as you like. I'll leave the keys on the hall table”. He followed her, feeling like the biggest shit on the planet. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that it was for her own good, but he wasn't sure he could even trust himself any more.

“Claire?” She stopped and turned to him, with desperate hope in her eyes. He shook his head, dropped his eyes to the ground.

“See you around.” The door slammed and, when he looked up, she was gone.

 


	7. Chapter 7

John

Friday, March 30, 1984

John was late for school but that was nothing new. He wanted to be sure Claire was in class before he arrived, he didn't want to risk running into her in the halls. He snuck into the back of his class; he probably would have earned himself another detention for lateness but for the first time possibly ever, he was so quiet that the teacher forgot he was even there, and he escaped without punishment. He was aware of eyes following him in the halls, and he knew people were talking. Claire hadn't said exactly how many people she'd asked about him yesterday, but when one of those people was Shannon, she might as well have stuck up posters all over school, hired a loudspeaker to announce it and maybe written it across the sky in smoke just for good measure; that girl had a fucking mouth on her. He didn't know what they were saying, and he didn't care. He was used to people talking shit about him, and he was used to ignoring it. He couldn't help but wonder how Claire was coping with it though. This would all be very new to her.

He didn't see her all morning, and at lunch time he risked a look into the cafeteria. He wanted her to be ok, even if he knew he'd hurt her yesterday. He hoped one day she'd realise he'd said what he had to protect her, and save her from doing something she'd regret. But she wasn't at her usual table, with Shannon and Carrie and the rest of her shiny, polished friends. He scanned the rest of the room but couldn't see her. Maybe she'd gone to her locker or something. He had no money for lunch so decided there was no point hanging round the cafeteria. He was heading out to the playing fields, to see if any of his friends were smoking anything, when he ran into Brian.

John stopped and eyed him warily. He had no idea what Brian thought about him, now he knew something had happened with Claire.

“John.”

“Nerd”. There was an awkward silence, which Brian eventually filled.

“So did she find you? I mean, Claire, did she... was the address right?”

“Yeah she found me. Didn't she tell you? Or, rather, didn't she tell Shannon, who would tell everyone, meaning Claire didn't need to bother telling you in order for you to know?” Brian looked confused.

“N-no. No John, she didn't tell me. I haven't seen her, cos, you know, she's not here. And Shannon said that she didn't show at the mall after school yesterday either. In fact no one, no one saw her after she left to look for you. And now, you know, she's sick, so, she's not here”.

“She's sick? She's not been here at all?”

“No, she, I mean I heard her Dad called up yesterday and said she'd gone home and she was sick. So...” So indeed, thought John. So much for all her talk about not caring what people thought. She'd obviously changed her mind and decided she couldn't face the shame of people knowing she'd kissed John Bender. He should be pleased, really, that she'd seen sense. She would no doubt resume her place in the already endless line of people who thought he was a waste of space. They couldn't all be wrong. He just needed to try to forget that for a brief moment, he'd thought this particular person might have seen something in him that had been worthy of her attention.

 


	8. Chapter 8

John

Saturday, March 31, 1984 

John was back in the library, back in detention, but this time he was alone with his thoughts. He had thought about not bothering to turn up, but he figured Vernon would just add another Saturday to the list, and despite what he said, he really didn't want to spend every Saturday here for the rest of his life. He sat in the same seat as he had the week before, and found himself just staring at the back of Claire's chair. Vernon swaggered in a couple of times, mouthing off some shit about nothing in particular, but John zoned him out and, unable to get a rise, Dick eventually gave up and left him to it.

As usual, John had no lunch with him. Claire had said he could use food from her cousin's house but there was no way he was taking stuff he couldn't afford to replace; last night he'd had his sandwiches with him so he hadn't had to take anything for dinner. He was grateful for the break from the hell-hole he called home, but he wasn't a charity case and he'd already decided he couldn't stay there any longer. He'd have to face his Dad again sometime, might as well be today. He felt his stomach growl, and then almost immediately heard a noise outside. He braced himself, ready for Vernon to lay into him again – so nothing could have prepared him for the door opening, and Claire walking in. He'd been shocked last week, when she surprised him in the closet, but that was nothing compared to how stunned he was right now. He had no idea what she was playing at, and for once he couldn't think of anything clever to say.

“I brought you a pizza” she said, holding the flat, steaming box out to him. It took him a second to find his voice; what she was even doing here after what he'd said to her?

“You brought pizza? Why are you here?”

“I figured you'd be hungry.”

“You left me in a house with a cupboard full of food last night, and told me I could eat what I wanted, why would I be hungry?”

“I said you could eat it, but you didn't, did you? I bet you didn't.” She shrugged. “So I brought you a pizza.” John's mind was whirling. He had no idea what to do with this... this... whatever this was. No one ever did anything for him, he had no frame of reference and so in a panic he reverted to type.

“So what, we spend one fucking day together and all of a sudden you know me that well, is that it princess? Poor John Bender, the charity case, can't even feed himself, his life's that fucked up. Well I tell you what, you have no idea about me. No fucking idea, ok?” He could see that his words hurt her, and he hated that, but she didn't cry. “So you can keep your pity, sweets. You can fucking keep it”. She snapped her eyes back to his.

“You think I'm here out of pity? After what happened on Saturday, you think that's why I'm here?”

“Oh come on. Why else would Queen Claire be here right now?”

“If you let me talk I'll tell you,” she said quietly, but he didn't stop.

“I mean, you couldn't even bring yourself to come to school yesterday. Couldn't take the humiliation of being associated with me?”

“That's not why I wasn't in school...”

“Oh come on, I know you weren't sick, you know you weren't sick. Why else would you skip class? Want me to believe you were shopping again? Dammit!” he turned from her and slammed his fist into the desk, angry with himself for showing that he cared.

“You think I wasn't in school because I'm embarrassed? You're sitting there, being pissed off with ME? I came here today to see if you were ok, not to listen to your crap. I tried to help you, remember? I came to your house to talk to you, I saw what your Dad had done... so I found you somewhere to stay away from him for a while, and you don't even have the good manners to acknowledge that.” She looked defiant, and beautiful, and a little bit lost all at once; he sighed and the fight went out of him.

“I'm grateful for the place to stay, princess, I am. But what am I supposed to do?” She looked at him in disbelief for a moment, then looked away, shaking her head. “Claire.” The use of her real name made her snap her head back towards him, but he was looking down now and wouldn't meet her gaze. “I mean it. What AM I supposed to do. I don't have much experience of... this sorta shit.”

“Has – has no one ever just been kind to you before? Ever?” He smiled with his mouth but not with his eyes as he shook his head.

“Not so as I remember, princess”.

“What about...” Claire steeled herself for the possibility of hearing something she didn't much like. “What about, you know, the girls in the photos you carry? Your... girlfriends? They must have been kind to you? I mean, they... you... you did... you know?” she flushed red and couldn't meet his eyes.

“Those other girls... they took what they wanted from me, I... took what I wanted from them. None of us were ever under the illusion that what we did was anything other than selfish. None of us wanted to be on our own, we all had places we needed to escape from, just for a little while. It's the same with my friends. I mean, we're friends in that all of our lives are pretty shit, and we're good at distracting each other from that, but we're all too busy with our own problems to do much of anything for each other, you know? If that's kindness princess, then yeah, I guess I'm up to my ears in it”.

She pushed the pizza box towards him.

“It'll probably be cold now, but will you at least eat?” His stomach growled again, there was no way to convince her he wasn't hungry so he finally opened the box and grabbed a slice. “It's just cheese... I didn't know what you'd like. I don't know you after all, do I?” She tried a cautious smile then, and he allowed himself to return it.

“It's actually my favourite” he said, surprising her.

“You don't go in for all the meat feast, pepperoni stuff that guys usually like?”

“Nah” he replied between mouthfuls, “you might have noticed I'm not exactly like all those other guys”. There was a glint in his eye now as he teased her, before he remembered that he was supposed to be turning her off him, not trying to make her like him more. He sighed, putting down the slice he was halfway through. “So you didn't cut class because you were embarrassed, huh? I'm not buying it”.

“It's true! I didn't!”

“Convince me”. She sighed, dropped her eyes, not sure how he would react.

“I cut class because... you told me to stay away from you. You said you didn't want to see me. And that... that wasn't what I wanted. I'm not embarrassed by what happened. I don't care what they all think.” She met his eyes. “I care what you think of me, though. And I still have no idea, even though last Saturday you... well you made me think that...” she couldn't quite get the words out.

“Why do you care what a loser like me thinks, huh?”

“I told you that I like you. And you're not a loser. Why would you think that?”

“Well everyone says it – they can't all be wrong now, can they sweets?”

“But that would make ME wrong, wouldn't it?”. She seemed bolder now, somehow. He was aware that he was getting close to opening up to her even more, and suddenly he was scared again but determined not to show it.

“Hell no, as if I'd dare contradict the Queen of the whole fucking school.” He sighed and dropped his eyes. “All I know is that I can take it, you know, when he hits me. I mean I could live without it, definitely, but I've learned to take it. But the rest of it... it's not what he does, so much as what he says. He's been telling me I'm a worthless shit pretty much as long as I can remember”. He shrugged. “It's pretty hard not to believe something, when you hear it so often.”

“Doesn't your mother ever...”

“What, tell me to ignore my Dad? Tell me how great I am, how proud she is, how much she loves me? Huh”. He looked away but not before she saw the pain in his eyes. “She can actually be worse than him. She doesn't hit so much, but she's my Mom, you know? Hearing things like that, from her...” he swallowed hard a couple of times, and felt her reach for his hand,and then suddenly, the 'Bender' mask was back and he hardened his face before turning back to her and pulling his hand away. “But the thing is – they're right aren't they. So I don't have perfect parents, a nice fucking house, loads of money. But that doesn't mean I couldn't have made something of myself if I had it in me. So clearly, I don't have it in me. I'm nothing, just like they all say I am, and I always will be.” She was crying now, looking straight at him and crying and caring, and he wasn't sure he could take much more of this.

“You're worth a hundred of me, John Bender. What you have to live through, every day? I just can't believe your Mom could... would...how can she do that to you? You are worth so much more than they could ever be. You should have REAL friends, you SHOULD have people in your life who are kind to you.” She blushed and looked down. “You should have girlfriends who... who really care for you, and aren't just... using you for... you know, whatever...”

“Never gonna happen princess. Not for me.”

“No, you're wrong! You could have that, you deserve that!”

“I don't deserve anything that I'm not already getting.”

“You do!”

“Well I'll put a fucking poster up in school, shall I?” He couldn't stop himself; his natural instinct was to protect himself with defensiveness before he let her spin so many fairy tales that he started to believe them. “Wanted: care and kindness for school bum, and all around waster. You think I'll get many replies?” She got angry then, and it took him by surprise.

“Maybe you are a hopeless case after all. Can you not see? Can you not see that you could have all of this from... from me, you really are such an asshole! Why do you think I gave you that earring? Why do you think I chased you to your place, brought you to Jerry's place so you could get away from your Dad? Why do you think I'm here, in this dump, bringing you pizza when I could be shopping or getting a manicure or... or a hundred other things? I don't know what you want. I don't know what you need, and I don't pretend to know. The pizza was a lucky guess! But I do know that I will be your friend. I mean I know you don't believe in all that one guy, one girl thing, but if you could ever get your head around giving it a try then I will be...” her blush was back, deeper than he'd ever seen it before, but this time she held his gaze as she spoke. "I will be more than your friend, John Bender. If you will let me be.”

He had no way to respond, not right then, so he went on eating, hoping she'd think he was just hungry rather than thinking he just didn't know what to say. Even last Saturday, he'd never thought... she'd said it herself, the chances of them still being friends on Monday were fucking tiny, let alone anything else. He'd let his heart start to get away from him, in the closet, when he'd suggested how great he'd be at helping her get her own back on her parents – before his Dad had reminded him how it really was. But now here she was, saying the sweetest things anyone had ever said to him. Bringing him lunch. Bringing HIM lunch. Caring about him. What had he ever done to deserve this? He'd done nothing. Nothing! She maybe thought she'd seen something worthwhile in him, but he knew, deep down, she hadn't really. She was letting her imagination run away with her, same as he had; imagining him as something he wasn't, believing he could be someone who might fit into her life somewhere. She was wrong. This couldn't go on any longer. He had to stop it; no matter what he was, he still didn't want her getting hurt more than she had to be.

“Look at me. Seriously, look at me. What am I? I'm nothing. No prospects. Going nowhere fast – nowhere good, anyway. I'll leave school with nothing, there'll be no college education for me, no career... If I'm lucky, I'll find some crappy job, that'll keep a roof over my head, but it'll be a roof attached to a dump like I live in now. It's as far from where you're going as it's possible to be. You don't need that. What could someone like me, offer someone like you? You're beautiful, and smart – you could have it all. You SHOULD have it all. What I think about you, or feel about you, it doesn't matter. You need the Prom King, you know? You need the guy with the college education, the trust fund, the glittering career, the... the shiny car, the house with a pool... Trust me, princess, there is nothing you can say that will make me believe that I'm worth what you say I am. Last Saturday was... it was a day outside normal life. Just one crazy day. We all said things... and it was cool, you know, but it was one day. It's not real life. I know you said stuff to your friends about me and I'm... sorry if that's awkward and everything.” He pulled the keys to her cousin's place out of his pocket, and dropped them on the desk beside her. “I have to head home when I'm done here. I can't put it off forever. But... thanks. And I wish...”

“You wish?” she echoed. He shrugged.

“I wish I hadn't made you cry. But you'll see someday I was right about this”.

“And you do... I mean, you said you... feel something for me? I didn't imagine that last week?”

“Doesn't everyone love Claire Standish?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were serious. “Why would I be any different?”

She dried her eyes with her hands, in that weird way he'd seen girls do when they were trying not to smudge their make up.

“I guess I should go then huh? Before Vernon comes back.”

“I guess so”.

She stood to leave, picking up the empty pizza box.

“What are you taking that for,” he asked, “I can dump it in the trash later.”

“It's ok, I'll take it. I don't want Vernon to come back and see it.” She shrugged. “You might get in trouble.” He laughed out loud at that, but only for a second; she stopped his laugh with the briefest brush of a kiss on his lips.

“You do know I meant what I said, don't you?” She asked. “I'd tell the whole world if I thought it would change your mind. Would it change your mind?” She looked so sad then, and so beautiful, that he almost caved. Almost. But he was doing this for her; she'd been kind to him and he was going to make sure she did what was right for her now. He had to say it, but he couldn't look at her as he did.

“There's nothing you can say.”

“Will you do one thing for me John?” He looked her, the question in his eyes. “Will you just stay at Jerry's place this one last night, and... think this all through? I'm telling you I don't care what people think. I like you, and I... want...” she looked like she was going to cry again, but she held it together. “Just sleep on it. And then, tomorrow, if you still feel the same, well I guess I have to just accept that. Please?” He sighed. After all she'd done, he couldn't say no to this.

“Sure, I'll sleep on it. But it won't change anything.”

“Thank you”, she whispered, heading for the door. She was still carrying the pizza box, but left the keys on the table where he'd dropped them.

“Claire? See you around, maybe. And thanks... for the pizza, for everything”. She smiled a sad smile.

“You're welcome”. And then she was gone.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Claire

Saturday, March 31, 1984

Back in her room, Claire played John's words back over and over again in her mind. She thought she was starting to understand. She hadn't imagined what had happened between them; he had felt something for her, but he'd spent his entire life being told he wasn't worth anything, and so eventually he'd started to believe it. Hot, angry tears sprang to her eyes. How could his parents treat him like that? And at school – surely someone must have noticed something, someone must have known things weren't right? But instead of helping him, they just punished him even more, her and her friends included. And now he was pushing her away because he thought she was too good for him; that she could do 'better'. Claire looked at herself in her dressing table mirror. Perfectly made up; hair just so. Jewellery, nails, clothes... coordinated perfectly. People looked at her, and they saw someone worthwhile. They looked at John and didn't. But she knew now how wrong they were.

The tears finally escaped. She felt so ashamed of herself, of the way she'd always acted, judging people by the way they looked and not by who they actually were. She grabbed for her cleanser and scrubbed away the make up and the tears, not worrying about being gentle on her skin, just wanting it gone. She took off her nail varnish, and pinned her hair back from her face. Still crying, she took off the designer clothes and dug out some jeans and a simple shirt she'd had to buy for a school field trip where she knew she'd get dirty and didn't want to risk her 'good' clothes. Finally, she took off all her jewellery. Then she reached into her jewellery box and picked out a single diamond earring; the partner of the one she'd given John. Was that really just last week? She put the earring in and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked so different – but that was good. She felt so different, so she thought it was right she should look different too. She didn't feel like that stupid kid any more, the one she'd been before detention. She dug out a pair of plain flats that she knew would be comfy to walk in, grabbed her purse, and then headed for the door. There was nothing she could say to John to change his mind; he'd said that and she believed him. But she also knew that he was so, so wrong about himself. He was worth so much. There was nothing she could say to make him see it – but maybe there was something she could do.

 


	10. Chapter 10

John

Saturday, March 31, 1984

John found that he couldn't bring himself to break his promise to Claire. He headed back to her cousin's place for one last night, and dropped onto the sofa without even turning the light on. He didn't know how to feel. Part of him wanted her to understand, but at the same time he'd be crushed if she said she did; if she accepted why they couldn't be together then that must mean that deep down, she understood his reasons and agreed with them even if she didn't want to admit it. He lit up a cigarette. She hadn't told him if he could smoke in here or not but he figured he'd sleep with a window open, and no one would know if he just had the one. And when he'd done with that, he just sat there, in the dark, trying to make sense of the past week. He'd made a decision, over the past few days, without even realising it, but now it was time to acknowledge it. No matter how much of a waste of space he was right now, he wouldn't be this way forever. He had no chance of making much of a change at school, he knew that, it was way too late. But afterwards... he knew it would be hard, starting with nothing, but he was determined that somehow, he'd make something of his life. Maybe, one day, he'd meet someone else who looked at him the way Claire had, and when that day came he wanted to feel that he was worth that look. Deep down he doubted that there was anyone else out there who would look at him in quite the same way... but he wasn't taking that chance.

He had no idea how long he'd been sitting there, in the dark and the quiet, when he suddenly heard the sound of a key in the lock. He jumped up in panic, wide eyed, trying to think of a way to escape. Maybe Claire's cousin had come home early? He couldn't think who else would have a key. But then the door opened, and it wasn't Claire's cousin standing there. It was Claire. She saw the look of panic in his eyes.

“Sorry” she said, “I kind of had another key at home. I should have said.” For a moment, no one spoke. He looked at her, taking in the plain clothes, the lack of make up... the single earring. Then he broke the silence.

“Claire...”

“No.” She cut him off, and the look in her eyes shut him down. “Please. It's my turn”. She came into the room, dumping her purse and a bag onto the table, then moved to sit on the couch. He joined her warily. “I heard everything you said earlier. I've been over and over it, and I just want to check I have it right. Please?” He sighed, and nodded for her to go on. “Thank you”. She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “If I have all of this right, then I like you and you like me. But you don't think we could ever have anything together because our backgrounds are so different, because I've got all this... this stuff and money and reputation, and you haven't. And so you want me to leave you alone, go find myself someone more... like me. Like I was.”

John didn't open up to people easily, but he reminded himself what he was doing, and why, and he knew he had to tell her the truth.

“Someone like you, yes princess, that's what you should have. All of that. And yes,” he broke eye contact, looked down at his hands, “you have it right. I like you enough to want you to have everything you deserve”.

“Then don't deny me the only thing I actually want.” He looked up sharply as she continued. “I know you have all this... experience, of the shitty stuff in the world, and of... well, everything, and I'm just some spoiled girl who never thought for a second about anything more meaningful than whether my shoes matched my purse and hardly even ever kissed anyone before, but no one ever made me feel the way I've felt since I met you.”

“You met me years ago sweets...”

“I don't mean that. I didn't know you back then, I'd seen you but all I saw was what you let everyone see, and that was 'Bender' not 'John'. I met you, John, last Saturday and since then you've shown me... something. You've shown me ME, as I was, and as I really want to be.” She blushed deeper than ever. “And I want you to show me more. I want you to show me everything. And I know you said that nothing I said could change how you felt, but maybe if I can't explain how much I mean all of this in words, I can do it another way”.

She scooted closer to him on the sofa then, a little awkwardly, and reached for his face. She ran her finger across the skin that was bruised and yellow from his Dad's last punch. There was so much sadness in her eyes. Then she leaned in and kissed him on the neck, just like that first time in the closet, before she leaned in and kissed his mouth. Her hand moved to his arm, over the cigar scar he'd shown the group last week, and when she touched him he realised she was trembling. He pulled away from her.

“Claire?” She blushed again, but held eye contact with him as she started to unbutton her shirt. “Claire?” He repeated, “What are...”

“I told you” she answered. “I want you to show me everything. I want you to understand exactly how worthwhile I think you are. And if you won't let me tell you, then I'll have to show you”. John's heart had never beat as hard, or as fast as it did when he understood what she was saying. He couldn't have described the way he felt if you'd paid him a million bucks. He felt higher than he'd ever felt in his entire life, and at the same time more terrified. He grabbed her hands, stopping her from undoing any more buttons.

“You would...be willing to... do that? With... me?”

“I'm not 'willing to do it'. I want to do it. But only with you.” He kissed her then, and felt her tense slightly as he reached for her buttons – and then she pulled away from him in confusion as she realised he was fastening them back up.

When he'd fastened the last one, he kissed her again. It took him a second to get himself together enough to speak at all, and all the while she just at there, watching him. She looked worried, as if she thought she'd done something wrong. Eventually he found some words, and could only hope they would be the right ones.

“I don't know what to say right now so I'm sorry if this sounds like a bunch of crap, you know I'm not good at this stuff and – it's just that I'm sure you have no idea what you just gave me. But it was... more than anyone else ever has.”

“But we didn't do anything!”

“We didn't have to. Just knowing you would come here like this, for me, to be with me...” he smiled a kind of sideways smile at her. “I know you wouldn't do that for some total useless waster, so I guess...” He saw her eyes light up as the confusion lifted.

“Wait – you finally believe me? That you're not worthless or useless or any of that crap your parents say? I did that just by undoing some buttons?!”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling as surprised amazed as she looked, “you did. And princess, if you want me to, I WILL show you everything. When you're sure you're ready. I can wait as long as you need me to, I know it'll be worth it.” He pulled her to him, and wrapped his arms around her, amazed at how it felt totally natural and completely overwhelming all at once. “Besides, we couldn't have done it today anyway.”

“Why not?” she asked, pulling away slightly to look at him.

“I don't have, you know, anything with me.”

“Oh! I thought you would have, you know? I mean, all those girls photos...” He laughed then.

“I might have exaggerated all those girls a bit. Yeah I've... done it, but probably not as much as people might think”. She looked like she was processing that new information, and then she snuggled back into him.

“We could have done though. I went to the drug store just in case.”

“You – what?!”

“I went to the drug store. I wasn't really sure what to get so I just got everything.” He was aware that his mouth was hanging open and that he no doubt looked like a total fucking idiot but she had blown him totally away with that one. Claire Standish, school Prom Queen, had been to a drug store. To buy contraceptives. To bring here. For him.

“But – someone might have seen you! Weren't you worried?”

“Well I figured I look a bit different, without make up, in these clothes...” she smiled sheepishly, “and I might have put on sunglasses. And a hat. It's in the bag over there.” He couldn't help it. He roared with laughter at the thought of her in her disguise, creeping around a drug store.

“Oh, I'm in so much fucking trouble with you, Claire Standish. Aren't I.” She smiled.

“You might be. Just a bit.” He sighed, pulling her closer.

“What time do you need to get home? It's late. I'll walk you back, make sure you get there ok.”

“You want rid of me or something?”

“Fuck no, you know I don't. But I don't want to get you in trouble.”

“I'm spending the night with Allison.”

“Oh. Ok, well where does she live and I'll walk you there.” She looked at him, like he was an idiot, and he looked back, confused.

“I'm not really spending the night with Allison! She's covering for me, so I can spend the night with you.” And once again, she'd totally blown him away with everything she'd done for him tonight.

“So you were pretty confident you'd convince me, were you?” he smiled.

“Yeah, I figured I'd find a way”.

“So you're staying all night?”

“If that's ok?” He kissed her then, more urgently than before. He waited, expecting her to pull away from him at some point, but she didn't. For the longest time. And when she finally did, she took him by the hand and led him up the stairs, to the bedroom. He stopped her in the doorway.

“I meant what I said Claire. I won't rush you. There's no hurry.”

“And that's exactly why I know I want to do this. I trust you, John. Show me.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Claire

Sunday, April 1, 1984

Claire wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep; it was dark outside, and very quiet. John wasn't in bed. She lay awake for a while, looking up at the sky and thinking about everything that had happened in the last week, and especially in the last few hours. He'd been so gentle with her; she hadn't expected him to be like that, somehow. It was as if he thought he might break her, but she hadn't felt it was possible for him to do that. Instead she'd felt like he was putting her back together, one piece at a time, and now she felt more complete than she ever had before. Eventually she got up and headed down the stairs. The lights downstairs were all off, and he was standing in the dark, leaning against the window frame, looking out at the night.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“A little after two” he replied. He'd pulled his jeans back on but not his shirt. She walked up behind him, put her arms around him and kissed his shoulder. He looked lost in thought.

“Are you ok?” she asked. He smiled and turned his face to her.

“I should be asking you that,” he replied, “seeing as I know you've never done any of that before”. She kissed him again and then rested her head against his shoulder, staying behind him as he carried on talking, suddenly serious. “But I need you to know something. I need you to know that I've never done... that before either. What I've done before, with... those others... was about as far from what we just did tonight as it could have been.”

She could tell it took a lot for him to talk like this. He'd spent so many years hiding his feelings in an attempt to protect himself, and she was determined that she would never make him feel that he had to hide from her. She reached for him, turning him around to face her. He looked totally out of his depth, and for a moment she felt like laughing, knowing that the great, experienced John Bender was looking to her for guidance for once.

“I'm not going anywhere, you know that don't you?” she said, “I know people have let you down but I'm not going to be one of them”. She smiled a half smile up at him. “As long as you remember that I believe in the whole 'one girl-one guy' thing that is...” He smiled back, looking a little more relaxed.

“I guess I just didn't think one girl would ever want a loser like me for more than a night.”

“Well I do! And stop talking about yourself like that.”

“Sorry – old habits, you know?” She noticed something then.

“You put my earring back in! I thought you'd got rid of it.”

“I was always gonna keep it. I thought... it would be a way to remember that I hadn't imagined what had happened between us. But I couldn't wear it all the time. I thought it would drive me crazy to think about you all the time, and not actually have you with me.”

“What are you going to do now – about your Dad, and everything? I mean, you can stay here a little longer, but...”

“I know, don't worry. I'm going back today. Well, later today anyway. It's a couple more months, that's all, then I'm old enough to get out of there.”

“But what if he...”

“Princess – don't worry. I can take it for another couple of months. Like I said before, their words always hurt more than his fists, and something tells me those words aren't going to hurt quite so much after tonight.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she rested her head against his chest.

After a while she pulled away and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt a little uncomfortable with what she was about to admit, knowing how little John's parents had ever done for him.

“I'm getting my own place when I go to college, you know? My parents are buying me an apartment.”

“Wow – how the other half live, hey?” He moved to the sofa and lit a cigarette. He looked suddenly angry again.

“Are you ok?” She asked again.

“I just... I wish I could do that for you, you know? One day I will. Somehow. I'll get out of here after school and I'll find work while you study, and I'll save until I can find us a place. I know you took a chance on me and I won't forget that.” he smiled a sideways smile at her, “But if you tell Vernon or any of those idiots at school that I'm planning to get a job and be all responsible I'll deny every fucking word, I do have a reputation to maintain you know...”

“I know. And anyway, I kinda have a better idea...”

“You do?”

“Uh huh. You should come with me.” She saw confusion on his face.

“Come with you?”

“Why not? My apartment will be plenty big enough and my parents have pretty much zero interest in my life, so it's not like they'll drop in to visit every five minutes. They'll never even know.”

“Princess I appreciate the thought but I'm not living off your Dad's charity.”

“Wait, let me finish... you can work while I study, and if you're not paying for your own place then it'll be much easier to save up. As soon as I'm done with school, we'll get out of there. Find our own place. We'll just use it to get started. I mean... it's not your fault your parents can't... won't...”

“You can say it, you know. You can say they're shit.”

“So ok then. My parents have enough for us both. Let's take it.” He was quiet again then, looking away from her. “John?” she asked quietly.

“It's just that you're talking way into the future now, Princess. How do you know you won't have had enough of me by then?”

“I don't know how I know. I just do. I knew from the second I caught you looking at me when we got stuck in the hallway during detention; you had me from that moment. I won't change my mind. Although...”

“Although?”

“Have you thought any more about the whole one girl-one guy thing? Maybe it'll be you that gets fed up of me...” Claire did her best to look casual, but her heart was hammering in her chest as she waited for him consider whether he could give up all the girls in the photos he carried, just for her. He smiled and walked to where his coat lay on a chair; he grabbed his wallet and threw it to her.

“Go on, have a look.” he said. Curious, Claire opened it and rifled through the sparse contents. There were no photos.

“Where...”

“I threw them in the trash on the way home last Saturday. I was kinda hoping to replace them with just one.” He shrugged. “I guess I just knew, too. From the moment you tried to stop me when I was mouthing off to Vernon.” Claire felt like she would burst with happiness.

“So – you think you can put up with living off my parents money for a while, until we can get ourselves together?” He pulled her onto his knee and she wrapped her arms around his neck, looking straight into his dark eyes and loving what she saw there.

“Hell yes. Anything I have to do, to be able to do this all the time...” he kissed her then, and she felt the future in it, and smiled against his lips, “is definitely, definitely worth it”.

 


End file.
